The Wedding of Guinevere of Camelot
by myrmidryad
Summary: Title says it all. Gwen has been framed for stealing Uther's crown and Igraine's jewels and is due to hang for it and Merlin and Arthur are days away. ArthurxGwen all the way. Plot and summary details inside. T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Random plot bunny that kept bouncing in my face. So yeah, here it is - my take on how Arthur getting with Gwen really happened. For my really huge Merlin fic (if I ever publish it) I'm going to include most, if not all of this, but very altered and twistified. But enough of that! Here it is! Just because that moment between them in the last episode just made my sister and my friend and me squeal like the pathetic fangirls we are. Well, actually, not my sister. She distances herself as much as possible from anything fangirlish, inwardly fearing that she'll end up as obsessed and weird as me. Or so I like to think. :D**

**READ THIS!!! Okay, to actually understand this, you need to know a little of what's been going on in Camelot before this story.**

**1) Merlin's magic has been discovered. He and Arthur are both okay with it, Uther knows and is letting Merlin remain and keeping his magic a secret. Gwen and Morgana are the only others who know.**

**2) Morgana is gone. Yup, that's right folks, she's turned 'evil' and gone to the far reaches of Albion to unite her people against what she believes is the cruelty and oppression of Uther and his rule. And Christianity.**

**I think that's all. I hope so anyway. If you find something that doesn't fit, please tell me.**

**DISCLAIMED**

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"No!" Gwen cried as the guards took her arms in grips strong enough to bruise and tore her away from her home. "No! Please! I'm not a thief! I'm not, I swear!" She began to sob – how much must she suffer?

"Burn it!" A spiteful old woman cawed from the mob of people gathered to witness Gwen's disgrace and discovery. "Burn her home! Burn it to the ground, lest it be cursed!"

There were yells and shouts of agreement, and Gwen cried hysterically as she was dragged away, and the first torches were flung into the house Arthur had promised her would always be hers. Her last security, gone. Burned in fear and hate and hot, hot flames.

Her cheeks were wet as the guards tugged her through the courtyard, and the servants who knew her gaped in astonishment as Gwen – small, chatty, innocent Gwen – was dragged off to the dungeons.

As she stumbled and tripped on the cobbles, Gwen saw through her tears to Alice, a pretty young maid, grab the arm of one of the soldiers and demand to know what her friend was charged with.

"Thievery." Was the blunt reply, and Gwen's voice rose in pitch, her wailing intensifying as she realised that her two greatest hopes could not save her – Arthur and Merlin were not due back for days. She was doomed.

It was with those desperate thoughts that Gwen collapsed in an ungainly heap as the guards shoved her through the iron-barred door to her cell. Her heart broke as she realised that it was the same one her father had been kept in before he had been killed.

She tried to calm down and sort through her muddled thoughts. She had no idea how those items could have gotten into her home. What use would she have had for them anyway? Rings of gold and silver, necklaces of pearl and shell beading, and countless other priceless pieces of jewellery that had belonged to the Queen. And worst of all – Uther's crown. The thin, patterned one he wore only for special occasions because it was so valuable.

Gwen was a smart girl – she could see that the odds were heavily tipped in her opposition – as the daughter of a blacksmith, she would have the knowledge of how to melt down the costly metals, separate the gold and silver and copper and bronze and cast them in lumps of pure metal, and sell them on for great prices.

And Uther was furious, of course. It was no secret how much he had loved Igraine – the stories of what he was going to do with the thief were horrific, and Gwen shuddered at the memory, and then burst into fresh gales of tears.

What was she going to do?

No answers were forthcoming, and Gwen's scared thoughts were interrupted as the door to her cell opened and two guards stepped in, stern expressions on their faces beneath their helmets.

She stood up and scrubbed a sleeve across her face, trying to stand tall and not let them see the way her bottom lip trembled. They were not fooled, and each one took one of her arms, pulling her out.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked tremulously.

"To the King." The one on her left replied in a gravelly voice. Gwen bit her lip to stop it trembling and took deep shuddering breaths all the way to the audience chamber.

Uther's eyes under his heavy brow were dark and terrifying. Gwen trembled as she was pushed in front of him – she stumbled and fell, looking up at him with desperate, pleading eyes.

"Have you anything to say?" The King asked, his tone low and deadly. It was clear that anything she did say would not be taken into account.

"Please, Sire!" Gwen begged. His bad reception was not going to stop her pleading for her life. "I am telling you, I have stolen nothing! I have never seen that jewellery in my life!"

"And yet it was found in your house." Uther's glare intensified and Gwen flinched as though she had been struck.

"I never took them!" She cried empathetically. "Please, you have to believe me, I am no thief!"

"Your actions say otherwise." Uther continued dangerously. "I have heard enough." He sat back and waved a hand, his glare never leaving Gwen. "Take her away."

"No!" Gwen protested as the guards yanked her to her feet and spun her around. "Please! Somebody! I didn't steal anything! I never saw those things before in my life, I swear!" She kept up her cries until they were well down the corridor, and then she simply dissolved into tears. The guards had to carry her between them and set her down in her cell, where she curled up and cried herself to sleep.

xXx

Satisfaction glinted in Uther's eyes as the girl was dragged away. She was afraid, and so she should be! How dare anyone take Igraine's jewels! She had so loved those necklaces and earrings and bracelets – Uther had gifted her with new ones whenever he could. Her beautiful face would light up and she would cup whatever new pendant he had given her in her slender hands like a fragile baby bird, full of wonderment and gratitude. Then she would look up at him, a huge smile on her face, and fling her arms around him.

"Oh, Uther!" She would cry. "It's beautiful! You're so good to me."

She had loved each and every piece of precious jewellery, wearing them all regularly. And that wretch had stolen them! His face darkened as the guards admitted a man to the chamber – Gaius.

"Sire," He began, his opinion already evident in his tone of voice.

Uther held up a hand and scowled. "I don't want to hear it, Gaius. The jewels and my crown were found in her house."

"And therein lies the mistake." Gaius said. He peered at the King knowingly, his right eyebrow raised in that irritatingly permanent way.

Uther sighed angrily. "What mistake, Gaius?" Why did he _always_ have to ask, he wondered. Why?

"No thief hides their plunder within their own house." Gaius said in a low voice. "Especially one who has stolen such valuable artefacts. And Gwen is not a thief. It is clear that she has been set up." He was wearily certain, and Uther's reputational temper flared to life at the hidden patronisation.

"They were found in her house!" He hissed, turning the full force of his fury on the physician. "My Igraine's jewels! The last hands to touch them were hers, and that _servant_ stole them, her fingers all over them…" He trailed off, breathing heavily, his expression thunderous, daring Gaius to challenge him further.

Which of course he did. "Sire, I know Gwen." He stepped closer, his eyes intent. "She is the gentlest woman I have ever known, and besides, no one even knows where you keep Igraine's jewels."

"Enough!" Uther swiped his hand through the air, incensed and beyond reason. "I will not hear this! Get out of my sight, Gaius! The girl will hang as soon as the gallows is constructed. She will hang, and all of Camelot will see what happens to those who steal from me…from Igraine!"

Gaius held his gaze for a moment, water against fire, but then the resistance was gone, and he ducked his head in submission. "As you wish, Sire." He muttered, and turned to leave.

Gwen sat, staring blankly at the wall. She had had nightmares about this, after she had been charged with causing the water disease. The threat of execution hanging over her like (ironically) an axe. The long wait, with nothing to do to stop the imagination running away with itself. The grey stone walls that seemed to close in on her, shutting out the light and sound.

And this was a hundred times worse than the last time (last time – there shouldn't even have been a last time!), because at least then she knew that Merlin and Arthur and Morgana were trying their hardest to prove her innocence and set her free. Now she didn't even have her father. He had died escaping from the very cell she was imprisoned in.

A noise distracted her from her deep thoughts, and Gwen turned to the door to see Gaius hurrying towards her. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the bars, clutching the cold iron in her hands as Gaius slid his fingers, warm and papery, over hers in a comforting gesture.

"Gwen," He said sadly. "How are they treating you?"

"I'm fine." Her voice trembled. "Gaius…I'm scared." She lowered her voice to a frightened whisper. "At least last time there was Arthur and Merlin and Morgana – now I have no one!" Fresh tears started in her eyes, and Gaius reached a hand through the bars to wipe them away gently.

"There, there, Gwen. Don't worry. Uther may not listen to me, but he will listen to Arthur."

"But Arthur is days away!" She cried. "He'll never make it back in time! I'll be dead by the time a message reaches him!"

"A message sent by normal means, perhaps," Gaius smiled cunningly. "But not one sent by magic."

Gwen gasped. "Magic?"

"Yes." Gaius nodded. "Fear not, my child. By the time your gallows are built, Arthur and Merlin will be here, and they will bring the King to see reason, you'll see." He patted her hand confidently.

Gwen nodded, not so sure. "I hope you're right Gaius." She whispered. "Because they plan to start building it today, this very afternoon. It will be completed by dawn tomorrow."

"Then the Prince and Merlin will be here by dawn tomorrow." Gaius reassured her. "Don't you worry, Gwen." He patted her hands one last time before stepping back. "And make sure you keep eating." He added as he turned away.

Gwen stepped back from the bars and sank to the floor, twisting her hands in her lap. There were no windows in this cell, but she could hear the sounds floating in from the courtyard outside as carpenters and guards wheeled in planks of wood to build her gallows.

xXx

Gaius hurried as fast as his aged legs would allow. If the guards below had heard his and Gwen's exchange, then they could already be on their way to stop him. Luckily, the spell was a quick one, and he had all the amplifying herbs all ready in his chambers.

He reached his rooms without challenge, and promptly set about making a pouch of speech-aiding and summoning herbs. He had to be swift now, in case the King discovered his intentions.

Holding the pouch in his hands, he raised it up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. "_Il ânnαgh ðé muriích gweňna tach_." He felt the familiar power well up inside him and welcomed it like an old friend. It had grown weak over the years with lack of use, but it still held enough power to reach out across the land, attracted to the most powerful source of magic in Albion – Merlin. In the cup of his hands, the pouch started to glow.

Riding with Arthur in the woods, Merlin jerked suddenly, not familiar with Gaius' magical signature. As he grasped the tendril of magic however, he recognised that sense of crabby goodwill and concern that Gaius always held for him.

_Gaius?_ He asked uncertainly.

_Merlin_. Back in Camelot, Gaius smiled with relief.

_What is it?_ Merlin asked worriedly. _What's wrong?_

_It's Gwen. _Gaius told him quickly. _Someone planted Igraine's stolen jewels in her house – Uther won't see reason and she is due to hang tomorrow morning. They're building the gallows now._

Merlin was horrified. _They can't!_ He cried. _They can't kill Gwen!_

"Merlin?" Arthur pulled Hubert up to fall in next to Merlin. "What on earth's the matter with you? You're just staring off into space." He laughed.

Merlin shook his head, his eyes still unfocused. "The King is going to hang Gwen." He told Arthur in a faint voice. "Tomorrow morning."

Arthur's eyes widened. "_Hang_ her? Why?"

"For stealing some jewels." Merlin replied. _Have you spoken to Uther?_ He asked Gaius.

_Of course, but where Igraine is concerned, Uther is blind to reason._ Gaius snapped. _The only person he might listen to is Arthur. You must get back by tomorrow, or Gwen will hang._

_We will make it back._ Merlin told him determinedly. _I swear it._

_I believe you._ Gaius smiled. _Oh and Merlin?_ He added as his surrogate son prepared to break off the connection. _Hurry._

_Don't worry about that._ Merlin said darkly. _See you by midnight at the latest_.

Gaius only had time to raise his eyebrows before the connection was broken and the pouch in his hands stopped glowing. Back in the forest, Arthur was railing at the trees and bushes.

"He can't hang her!" He waved his hands as though addressing a court. "Gwen couldn't steal food to feed herself, let alone jewels! And what use would she have for them anyway? She knows that if there's anything she wants or needs, she need only ask us! What on earth can my father be thinking?"

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, snapping the Prince out of his rant. "We will get back by midnight."

"What?" Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Midnight? We're leagues from Camelot, Merlin. It'll take days to get back!"

"Not with magic." Merlin smiled slightly, stretching his hand out to Hubert's hooves. The large horse shifted uneasily as a green-blue light enveloped his legs up to his knees. Arthur was also shocked, staring down at the ethereal smoke-like cover of magic. He watched in silence as Merlin did the same to his own mount, then looked up at him.

"Let's go."

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**So yeeaaaaah...thoughts expressed in the form of reviews are nice...more than nice, actually, more like little messages of strength that give me the will to carry on, but don't let my rambling distract you from pressing the review button and at least letting me know that you made it to the end of the chapter! Which is always comforting.**


	2. Chapter 2

**My love and thanks to star-fire-dreamer, DementedViper, Dragonrider2203, Hogaboom, HopeCoppice, dimple-lala, WhiteOwl05, pygmypuff71 and alleywayqueen. Thanks to doddle for faving and the rest of you for putting it on alert! Your reviews are love ^^**

**DISCLAIMED**

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Gwen couldn't sleep. She sat with her back against the stone wall, staring blankly out at the corridor beyond the bars of her cell. The shadow of the guard was cast on the opposite wall, a dark reminder that any attempt to escape on her part would be discovered quickly.

So she sat. And sat. And sat.

Finally, her eyelids began to droop, and her head sagged. Just as she was about to drop off, the clatter of hooves outside woke her. She sprang to her feet and ran to the door of her cell, grabbing the bars desperately, craning her head to try and see around the corner to the guard.

"Sir!" She cried. "Who is it? Can you see?"

The guard didn't reply, and Gwen bit her lip anxiously, berating herself. Why torment herself? There was no possible way Arthur and Merlin could have gotten back so fast.

Voices from outside shouted out, and Gwen couldn't stop herself pressing her body against the bars hopefully, straining to make out the words.

"It's the Prince!" A soldier cried. "Prince Arthur has returned!"

Gwen gasped with relief and sank to the floor, clutching the bars for support. They were back. They would save her. She would live!

Less than a minute later, hurried footsteps sounded in the dungeons, and Gwen struggled to her feet just as Arthur came round the corner, flanked by a scared-looking Merlin. "Gwen!" He cried.

"Merlin." Gwen smiled tearfully. "My Lord." She turned to Arthur, who smiled and shook his head as though they were not seeing each other through iron bars.

"Guinevere, how many times must I tell you that my name is Arthur?"

Gwen could do little more than gasp with laughter, slightly hysterical. Arthur just radiated safety – she would be alright now, she was sure of it. The blonde prince smiled again and nodded to her before turning his attention to the guard, haughty expression settling over his face effortlessly.

"Guard, what is this lady charged with?"

Gwen didn't hear the guard's reply as Merlin clasped her hands on the bars. "How did you get here so fast?" She whispered.

"Magic." He grinned. "Are you alright?"

"Just scared." She confided in a low voice. "I don't want to hang, Merlin."

"You won't hang." His voice was so confident that Gwen relaxed slightly. "Arthur won't let that happen, and neither will I. I'll magic your head from the noose if I have to." He smiled.

Gwen bit her lip tearfully. "But then Uther would attack you." She whispered. "And all he wants is an excuse to banish you, or have you killed. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you Merlin, or Arthur. Not on my account."

"Guinevere, you are entirely too self-sacrificing." Arthur chimed in, a trace of worry in his eyes. "You're almost worse than Merlin. Why is everyone so keen to die for me?"

"Because we love you, Sire." Gwen said without thinking. Realisation dawned on her face and she backpedalled hastily. "I mean, everyone does, not just me and Merlin, and certainly not me, I mean, that's not to say that I _don't_…" She trailed off at the amused looks on Merlin's and Arthur's faces.

"Yeah." Arthur grinned. "Sure. Come on, Merlin. I need to talk to my father." Merlin nodded and stepped back from the bars. Arthur stepped forward and his eyes were deadly serious as he looked at Gwen. "Don't worry. I promise I'll get you out of this."

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked, remembering the worry she had seen in his eyes a moment before.

Arthur smiled, reaching a hand through the bars to touch her face. "Certain. Keep smiling, Guinevere. I won't fail you."

"I know you won't." Gwen whispered.

Arthur nodded, rubbed his thumb under her eye, and then withdrew his hand, turning to leave. Gwen lifted one hand from the bars to touch her cheek where Arthur had, and smiled slightly, relaxing for the first time since her arrest. Arthur had promised. She would be fine.

xXx

As they walked out of the dungeons, Arthur leaned his head close to Merlin's. "You didn't tell me that the jewels were my mothers."

"I didn't?" Merlin looked at him in surprise, then shrugged. "Oh well. You know now, and what difference does it make?"

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. "It makes all the difference in the world, Merlin." He said as they began to climb the stairs. "My mother's jewels are all my father has left of her. He's very…possessive. Not even I have ever seen them before."

Merlin turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You're not allowed to see them? Your own mother's?"

"No." Arthur kept his eyes focused ahead as they reached the top of the stairs and began to stride along the corridor so fast Merlin had to run to keep up. He sighed, frowning. "If they were any old jewels, I might have been able to bring my father to see reason easily, but where my mother is concerned…" He sighed again, and looked away from Merlin. "This isn't going to be as easy as I made out."

Merlin stared at him. "You will be able to get Gwen out though, right?" Arthur kept his gaze averted and Merlin's voice grew more anxious. "Right?"

"I don't know, Merlin." Arthur snapped, finally as they reached the doors of Uther's audience chamber. "But if my father insists on the hanging…there is one last chance, though no one will want to accept it, least of all Gwen." He swallowed and looked down. "In this respect, if the worst comes to the worst, we can count ourselves lucky that my father wants to hang her. The gallows law doesn't apply to the executioner's block." He turned away and pushed the doors open.

Uther was sitting in his throne at the head of the table, alone, and obviously expecting them. His eyes were dark. "Arthur." He ignored Merlin completely, for which Merlin was grateful.

"Father." Arthur's voice was hard enough to match the King's. "You know why I am here?"

"To plead for the life of that thief locked in the dungeons." Uther snapped. "You're wasting your time."

"Surely you can see that this is madness?" Arthur didn't let up, stalking forward to glare at his father head-on. Merlin hung back, trying to be invisible. He was still nervous around the King after his narrow escape from the axe.

"The jewels were found in her house." Uther growled, getting to his feet angrily. "And she will die for it. That's the end of it, Arthur."

"No, it is not!" Arthur snarled back. "You are blind in your devotion to those damned jewels. They are _just jewels_. Gwen wouldn't steal them – she has no reason to."

"Enough." Uther roared, turning on Arthur. The Prince backed up a step at the raw fury in his father's eyes. "You know nothing of the worth of those jewels. How much your mother loved them. How much they meant to her! The last hands that touched them were hers, and now that has been defiled by that common thief, seeking revenge for her father's death!"

Arthur took a shuddering breath. "You cannot hang her." He said evenly. "It is clear to everyone but yourself that all you desire is a swift end to this case. You don't have the patience or the will to conduct a thorough investigation to find out who _really_ stole the jewels, and why they framed Gwen for it."

Arthur and Merlin both jumped as Uther slammed his fists down on the table with a deafening bang. "You." He focused his death glare on Merlin. "Out. Now."

Merlin gulped and backed up swiftly as Arthur nodded, and escaped through the doors, collapsing against the wall outside with a sigh. He hated it when people argued, especially family. Especially Uther and Arthur. He sighed again and closed his eyes as raised voices started up inside the hall. He hoped Arthur won this argument, for Gwen's sake.

xXx

"This is absurd!" Arthur yelled at his father. "If you truly cared about her jewels, you'd search for the real thief –"

"I care more than you could ever know!" Uther shouted furiously. "And you know nothing! I have searched, and the culprit is locked in the dungeons, due to be hung tomorrow morning, just like she deserves."

"Guinevere is a harmless maid who continued to serve you even after you killed her father!" Arthur growled. "And you would kill her over nothing?"

"Stealing her jewels is not nothing!" Uther snarled. "I have heard enough! If you continue to protest, I will have her burned."

"That is a punishment for witchcraft, not of theft." Arthur said dangerously.

Uther stepped closer, his glare furious enough to make the child inside Arthur quail. But Uther himself had taught him to be strong, so he stood tall, glaring right back. "Do not make me change the way thieves are killed then, Arthur." Uther said, his voice low and dangerous. "If you continue to protest, I will burn her tomorrow, and that is a promise. One way or another, she will die."

Arthur clenched his jaw, searching his father's eyes for a speck or a hint of remorse or indecision, something he could exploit. There was nothing. Without a word, he turned away, closing his eyes as he considered what now had to be done to save Gwen and keep his promise.

Merlin looked up as the doors opened and Arthur stalked out, frowning slightly. Running slightly to catch up, Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I heard. Uther isn't going to release Gwen."

"That's right." Arthur muttered, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"So…you're not looking too furious." Merlin shrugged, looking at Arthur worriedly. "I take it that means you have a plan?"

"Yes." Arthur murmured, still immersed in his own thoughts.

There was a long pause. "Which is…?" Merlin prompted Arthur expectantly.

Arthur shook his head. "If I told you, it would ruin the surprise." His smile when he looked up though, was shadowed, and his eyes were worried. They reached the Prince's chambers, and Arthur slipped inside with only a half-muttered, "Goodnight."

Merlin frowned at the door. This had to be part of the 'gallows law' Arthur had been talking about earlier. But what was it? His frown became determined as he turned and walked away. He knew one person who would know.

But on the way, he was stopped. Guards stepped out of the shadows as he walked across the corridor, and even as Merlin spun to take in their number, his hands stretching out and spells leaping to his lips, one of the guards in the line spoke up. "You are to be held in the dungeons until tomorrow morning, by order of the King."

"Why?" Merlin asked as two guards grabbed his arms and propelled him around towards the dungeons. "I haven't done anything. Recently."

"In case you attempt to free the thief and flee in the night." The guard told him.

"Oh." Merlin sighed. "Great." He was tempted to tell them that he could knock them all out with just a few words, but refrained in the interests of his continued good health.  
"I don't suppose Arthur's being locked in as well?" He asked hopefully. They didn't answer and Merlin rolled his eyes. "No," He muttered, "Of course not."

They dumped him in a cell on the other end of the dungeon from Gwen so they couldn't communicate and left him with one guard standing watch at the corner. Merlin sighed and piled up the straw. There was nothing he could do until morning. Besides, he thought as he bedded down, Arthur sounded like he had it all under control.

xXx

Arthur was, in fact, sweating with nerves as he thought about what he had to do tomorrow to save Gwen's life. It wasn't that he didn't want to do it – Gwen was a fine woman, and he did confess to having…well…feelings for her…but the problem was that the gallows law was binding, and what if Gwen didn't feel the same way? They would both be trapped.

Not to mention his father would be furious. Arthur winced as his far-too-realistic imagination conjured up the images of the shocked crowd, Merlin's slack-jawed expression and his father's seething anger. Oh no, Uther would not be pleased at all. But the one thing Arthur couldn't visualise was the one face that really mattered in all this. He couldn't see Guinevere's reaction at all.

As the Prince slowly slipped into a light slumber, a tall man missing his usual crown stalked along the corridor, a key in his gloved hand. As silently as possible, he slid the key into the lock, and turned. The mechanisms clicked and fell into place, and the man walked away, satisfied.

Prince Arthur was locked in, and would be unable to interfere with his plans for the thief on the morrow.

* * *

**So? The next chapter is of long length and holds much excitement! There's gonna be a lynching, a lynching, a lynching! There's gonna be a lynching early in the day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy wow! So much response in less than 24 hours! I am beyond overwhelmed! :D As is, I decided to update as a kind of Christmas Day present to all of you, since I got so many lovely ones from my family. Special seasonal love and ale (and mulled wine - big thing back then and now) to HopeCoppice (thanks for the fave!), Marmite, ShanniC (Thanks for the fave and for adding me to the C2!) and dimple-lala. Also to Lady Jayde Une for putting it on alert. You guys are the shizzle!**

**DISCLAIMED**

* * *

Gwen woke to sunlight pooling weakly on the stone floor outside her cell. Her breath caught in her throat as she realised that it was morning, and she had fallen asleep at the door, waiting for Arthur to come and release her.

But he hadn't. Tears of shock sprung to her eyes as she prayed hysterically for a miracle. Arthur had said he wouldn't fail her. He had promised. Gwen calmed her breathing and nodded to herself firmly. No, Arthur wouldn't let her down. He had promised. He would save her somehow, and everything would be alright.

Gwen was calm as two guards came into her cell and grabbed her arms, escorting her outside. The gallows was ready, she noted with a tremor of fear, but the rope was missing. Instinctively, she looked to the window where her mistress, Lady Morgana would have looked out of. But Morgana was gone, disappeared from Uther's kingdom to unite her people against him.

Looking around, she saw that Arthur wasn't there yet. She schooled her expression, controlling her panic with dignity. She would not lose faith. Arthur would save her. He had promised.

xXx

Merlin was awake as the guards came to release him. "Has Gwen been let out yet?" He asked as they opened the door to his cell.

"The thief hasn't been hung yet, if that's what you mean." The soldier shrugged. "They still have to get the noose. But she's just been led out to the courtyard, all ready." He grinned, and Merlin backed away, breaking into a run. He had to ask Gaius what the gallows law was before it was too late.

He took the servants ways through the castle to cut his journey short, and was at the physician's quarters in less than a minute. Gaius looked up as the door burst open and gaped at him. "Merlin? Where on earth have you been?"

"Gaius?" Merlin ran over to him breathlessly. "What's the gallows law?"

Gaius looked at him in shock. "Good god, Merlin! You're not thinking of invoking it are you?"

Merlin stared at him. "I don't even know what it is!"

Gaius frowned, his wide mouth puckering in worry. "The gallows law," He began slowly, "Has existed since time immemorial. Since the first hangings in Albion, since before the land was even _called_ Albion. The gallows law can be invoked when a young man or woman has been sentenced to hang, and a willing person of the opposite sex stands up to take the condemned to be their partner in marriage. It is binding forever, and just as legal as a real marriage." He turned his penetrating gaze on Merlin. "You understand what I'm saying, Merlin?"

"That Gwen can be saved if a man proposes to her as she is about to be hung." Merlin breathed, sitting down. "Oh my god…" He looked up at Gaius in shock. "That's what Arthur meant!"

"Arthur?" Both Gaius' eyebrows rose, and Merlin's jaw nearly dropped. If Gaius was that surprised, he should be worried. "Do you mean Arthur is planning to invoke the gallows law for Gwen?"

"I think so." Merlin nodded slowly. There was a yell from outside, and both of them turned to the window. "They've found a rope." Merlin whispered, and he and Gaius hurried outside.

xXx

Arthur's boot crashed against his door again, and again. He yelled furiously and kept up his attack. How dare his father lock him in! Well it wouldn't work, he vowed as he picked up his chair and slammed it into the wood with a satisfying crack. He would save Gwen. He had promised.

On the second blow by the chair, there was a splintering sound, and Arthur grinned as he lifted the chair again, throwing it forward with all his strength. The door buckled under the assault, and Arthur dropped the chair in favour of his feet again.

This time, the tough wood finally snapped, splintering beneath his heels. "Yes!" Arthur yelled, not caring who heard as he battled his way through the wreck of his destroyed door and ran off down the corridor. A yell sounded from outside, and sweat beaded along his neck as he pumped his legs faster. They had readied the noose.

xXx

Gwen didn't even look ruffled as the noose was secured on the gallows and placed around her head, though inside, her heart was beating wildly. She was facing the royal balcony, and she quailed inwardly as Uther walked out onto it, glaring down at her. The phrase _if looks could kill_, came to mind…

"People of Camelot." Uther said loudly. "The woman before you stands guilty of theft. The penalty for such a crime is hanging. Guinevere of Camelot, I hereby sentence you to hang by the neck until dead, and may God have mercy upon your soul."

There were yells and jeers from the crowd, and Uther smiled grimly. The people were on his side. He would show them exactly what someone like this _Guinevere_ deserved. He raised his hand, and the hooded executioner went to the lever, tightening his grip on it. Every eye in the courtyard was trained either on the thief, or Uther's raised arm.

Uther took a deep breath, relishing the moment. Now this was power. The power to punish those who did wrong by you. This was it. A speck of horror in the crowd caught his eye, and he narrowed his eyes on the warlock, Merlin. How he wished it was him with a rope around his neck. But this girl was the next best thing.

Just as he was about to slice his arm down, there was a disturbance in the crowd. Shrieks and cries of shock as people were shoved out of the way by a red-coated young man. Uther's eyes widened in fury and surprise as his son battled his way through the crowd and made a leap for the stage.

The King turned to the executioner and his arm was a sword as it flew down, a swift signal. The hooded man pulled the lever, and there were three separate yells – one of horror from the warlock, Merlin, one shout of defiance from Arthur, and one gasping scream from the condemned Guinevere.

But the executioner had pulled the lever a fraction of a second too late.

Arthur's arms closed around Guinevere just as the trapdoor beneath her swung open, and he held her easily, pulling her back to the safety of the platform and tearing the noose off from around her neck. "Sorry I was so close." He murmured quickly in her ear. "I was locked in."

Gwen laughed slightly hysterically. "Better late than never." She gasped, holding onto him tightly. Arthur smiled at her, then turned to glare at Uther, his arm still around Gwen's waist.

"What is the meaning of this?" Uther bellowed. The crowd watched with baited breath. This was the most eventful hanging any of them had ever attended.

"I claim her." Arthur called back clearly. "I invoke the gallows law."

There were gasps and yells of shock from the crowd, and everyone looked up at Uther, who paled dramatically. "You are not serious." He said in a quiet voice.

"I am deadly serious." Arthur glared at him. "You cannot stop me."

"I am the King." Uther hissed, loathe to discuss this in front of half of Camelot.

"Even the King can't revoke the gallows law." Arthur told him, lifting his chin.

Uther glared down at him, and the people in the crowd flinched away from the fury in his eyes. "Inside." He said in a clipped, hard tone, and his cape swirled as he turned abruptly and disappeared inside.

Arthur squeezed Gwen's waist and looked at her. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She gasped. "You just saved my life!"

Arthur nodded and helped her off the stage – the crowd parted before them, the people staring openly at the odd couple of a Prince and a servant. "You don't mind then?" Arthur muttered in her ear as they walked along.

Gwen blushed furiously and ducked her head. "Of course not. I mean, I can't believe you'd do this for me." She swallowed. "I'm just a servant." She whispered.

Arthur squeezed her waist again. "Not to me."

A smile crept onto Gwen's face, and she bit her lip to stop it spreading. Arthur saw and smiled too. Loud footsteps behind them, and Merlin appeared at Gwen's side.

"I can't believe it!" He gasped at Arthur. "Cut it close, didn't you?"

Arthur laughed, the sound echoing strangely in the silent courtyard full of people. "Better late than never."

Merlin chuckled, then asked in a subdued voice. "What do you think Uther'll do?"

"Try and stop me." Arthur shrugged. "Yell himself into a fit, try and scare the socks off Gwen, but no matter how much he yells, the gallows law can't be revoked now. It's too late."

Merlin grinned at Gwen and winked. She blushed and looked down. Of all of her friends (there weren't actually that many), Merlin was the only one (she hoped) who knew of her attachment to Arthur.

"You're getting married." The warlock sang under his breath, a stupid grin plastered on his face. "You're getting married."

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur rolled his eyes, and Merlin was intensely gratified to see a rosy tint in the Prince's cheeks.

"I love weddings." He confided to the couple. "I can't _wait_."

"I'm so glad you're happy for us." Arthur said through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to whack his servant around the back of the head.

He restrained himself (barely) and the strange trio made their way inside, out of the way of the prying eyes of the crowd who had come for a hanging only to get a proposal, and a royal one at that.

Gwen shrank into Arthur's side as the doors to the audience chamber were opened by the guards. Arthur squeezed her waist. "Don't worry." He muttered. "He can't harm you."

Merlin's smile vanished and he fell into place behind Arthur, watching as Gwen straightened her spine determinedly. He suppressed a grin. He was so proud of her. And Arthur. Gwen would make an excellent Queen. Queen Guinevere Pendragon…had a lovely ring to it, he decided. It _sounded_ grand enough at least.

Uther's glare was enough to scorch the air between him and the new couple. "_How_," He hissed, "Did you get out of your room?" He didn't even look at Gwen.

"I broke the door down." Arthur deadpanned. "It's little more than splinters now."

Uther struggled to compose himself, his breathing uneven and his fists clenched. "_Why?_" He demanded furiously.

"Because Gwen is innocent." Arthur said simply. "And you would not see reason."

"She is a _thief_." Uther said, his voice a low hiss.

"She is a victim of your madness." Arthur swallowed, but didn't break eye contact. "Not even you can revoke the gallows law."

"Just you watch me." Uther snarled.

"The people will not stand for it." Arthur said easily. "The gallows law is older than Albion itself. You cannot revoke it."

Uther growled wordlessly and turned away. He was beaten and he knew it. But that didn't mean he had to like it. "You will be the laughing stock of the court." He muttered.

Arthur shrugged. "The court doesn't matter. The people will support it – Gwen is one of their own."

"The _people_ seemed happy enough to watch her hang just a few minutes ago." Uther spat.

"They'll get over it." Arthur smiled slightly, his eyes still hard as they focused on the King. "They'll have no choice."

The battle was won, and Merlin clenched his fists and grinned, bouncing on the spot in a kind of restrained victory dance. He couldn't _wait_ for the wedding!

"My Lord." Arthur bowed, Gwen with him, as he refused to take his arm from her waist, as if afraid she would collapse without his support. Uther refused to look at them as the couple turned and left. Merlin bit his lip and looked after them, then to the King. He really _shouldn't_, but…

"I'll send out the invitations shall I, Sire?" He said brightly.

The resulting growl would have made a grizzly bear proud. Merlin swiftly decided that it was within his best interests to retreat. Fast.

Of course, he grinned as he followed Arthur and Gwen, the growl _could_ be taken as an affirmative, and the court _would_ have to be informed, and official proclamations put up…he nearly broke into another celebratory victory dance on the spot. He used the energy instead to run off to find Geoffrey of Monmouth, the court genealogist, librarian and scribe. He just _loved_ weddings!

xXx

Arthur heard Merlin run off in the opposite direction and wondered briefly where he was going, then decided that he didn't care. He looked at Gwen instead. "You…you're sure you're okay with this?" He asked hesitantly.

"Of course!" She replied empathetically. "More than okay. That is to say…" She backtracked furiously. "I mean…it wouldn't matter even if I wasn't okay, because if I said no I'd be hung. Not that I mean I'm not okay with it! I am. I mean," she attempted a carefree laugh, "Of course I am."

Arthur smiled at her amusedly and she blushed, ducking her head. "Sorry."

"What for?" He laughed. "It's lovely."

"You think so?" Her eyes danced brightly as she looked up at him. They turned the corner and she gasped, her eyes falling on the wooden wreck spilling into the corridor that used to be a sturdy door. "You did that?" She stared at it, then Arthur.

He cleared his throat and laughed self-consciously. "Yeah. Well, it was a close thing – a few seconds longer and you might have…" He trailed off, unwilling to follow the unpleasant thought through.

"Thank you." Gwen said seriously as they neared the splintered wood. "For everything." She looked up at Arthur, who smiled hesitantly, then more openly.

"You're welcome." He said softly. He suddenly realised how close they were, but didn't dare pull away. He didn't want to. The moment was too perfect. Slowly, slowly, their faces crept closer to one another…

"Hey future monarchs!" Merlin sauntered casually down the corridor and Arthur ground his teeth together, restraining the urge to punch the lanky idiot. It was a tough battle.

"_Merlin_." He ground out finally. "What is it?"

"Geoffrey needs the royal seal for the invitations and official public proclamations." Merlin couldn't contain his grin. "I'll take care of Gwen." He added. "Don't worry."

"Worry about Gwen while she's with you?" Arthur asked sarcastically. "Hah. How did Geoffrey find out so fast anyway?" He added, frowning at Merlin.

"I told him." Merlin grinned and shrugged. "Seems a good idea to hurry things along before Uther decides to have Gwen assassinated." As Gwen paled, Merlin hastily reassured her. "He wouldn't really, honest. Besides, you're going to be Queen of Camelot." He grinned. "The future is in your hands!" If anything, Gwen got even paler.

Arthur sighed and patted her shoulder gently. "Pay no attention to him – I don't. If he gets too irritating, just send him to muck out my horses." He smiled at her and turned to leave.

Merlin scowled. "I resent that you know!" He yelled at Arthur's retreating back.

"Which is of course why I do it." Arthur waved a hand, not looking back.

Merlin scowled until Arthur turned the corner, then smiled kindly at Gwen and kicked aside some of the wreckage of the door to clear a path into Arthur's chambers, waving Gwen on in an overstated gesture that looked simply ridiculous. Gwen couldn't help but smile weakly and play along.

"So how does it feel?" Merlin grinned foolishly as Gwen perched on the end of Arthur's bed. "To have all of your dreams come true?"

Gwen flushed and looked at her feet. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you _do_." Merlin grinned, hardly able to contain himself. "Come on, I know you must be just a _little_ bit ecstatic that you're getting married to the Prince of Camelot."

"Arthur being Prince has nothing to do with it." Gwen argued without thinking.

"Ah ha!" Merlin grinned, and Gwen hid her face in her hands.

"Be quiet, Merlin!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to!" Gwen looked up to see Merlin grinning smugly at her and relented. "Fine. I may be just a _bit_ happy to be marrying Arthur."

"I knew it!" Merlin grinned. "I knew you liked him."

"Oh stop it, Merlin!" Gwen hissed, a smile creeping across her face. It died as she touched her throat where the rope had been and she started to shudder.

"Gwen?" Merlin asked in concern. He crossed the room and sat next to her. "Gwen?"

"I actually _fell_, Merlin." Gwen whispered. "If Arthur had been just a second later…"

Merlin bit his lip and put an arm around her quaking shoulders. "But he wasn't. He saved you – completely destroyed his door as well." His voice turned rueful as he surveyed the damage. "And you know who's going to have to clear that up?" He asked her rhetorically, rolling his eyes. "Yeah – muggings here."

Gwen giggled slightly and Merlin smiled at her. "Alright now?"

She nodded and sniffed. "Thank you, Merlin."

"Don't mention it." He grinned, getting up. "Seriously – Arthur'd probably eat me if he found out I'd hugged his future bride."

"Oh, Merlin!" Gwen smiled. "Don't be silly."

"What?" Merlin shrugged, still grinning. "He likes you too, you know."

"Merlin!" Gwen blushed again and Merlin laughed.

"Fine, deny it. But you know, there's this bit in the wedding ceremony – did I mention I loved weddings? – where the King will say 'you may now kiss your bride'…"

"Merlin."

Merlin jumped about a foot in the air at Arthur's voice, innocent grin already in place as he landed. "Arthur! I was just –"

"Bothering my bride." Arthur deadpanned, a smile twitching the corners of his lips. He jerked his head at the wreckage of the door. "You'd better see about that getting fixed."

Merlin sighed and hung his head like a guilty child. "Yes, Sire."

"Good man." Arthur slapped his back. "Get to it."

"Yes, Sire." Merlin muttered. Arthur and Gwen watched him leave, kicking the splintered wood despairingly, then turned to each other.

"So…" Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. "You know the rest of gallows law?"

"We have to marry within a day." Gwen nodded, whispering.

Arthur swallowed and smiled, aiming for cheerful. "At least you were due to be hung in the morning. This way at least we have the day to prepare."

Gwen laughed, slightly hysterical. Arthur looked at her.

"Nervous?"

"Petrified." She admitted. She looked at him desperately. "You were born to this life, Arthur. I wasn't. I don't know the first thing about being a noble."

"Oh it's easy." Arthur grinned, waving a hand. "Especially for the ladies. Just resist any urges to help with the cleaning and you'll be fine."

Gwen laughed, then sighed, leaning against the bedpost. "Somehow I don't think it's going to be that easy." She whispered. "They'll hate me. I'm common."

"You're a better person than most of them." Arthur said seriously, stepping closer to her and lifting her chin with a finger. "I know that."

Gwen smiled and Arthur smiled back, moving his hand to take hers, pulling her gently to her feet. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" She asked, confused.

"To get your dress fitted." Arthur grinned. "The seamstress is having a fit – a wedding in less than a day, and she doesn't even know what size you are."

Gwen bit her lip. A seamstress herself, she could only imagine the horror the poor woman was experiencing on her behalf. "Oh dear." She murmured.

"Don't worry." Arthur said comfortingly, hesitating only a moment before putting a warm arm around Gwen's shoulders. She really was small, he realised with a start. So fragile, despite her hard-working, down-to-earth demeanour. It was just a reminder of how much protection she would need in the times ahead.

"Thank you, Arthur." Gwen smiled, looping her own arm tentatively around his waist, trying not to let the butterflies in her stomach show in her voice.

Arthur just smiled back and led her from the room as Merlin returned with a large hammer to bash the remaining door out of its frame. He grinned as he saw them. "Future King and Queen." He bowed teasingly.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur rolled his eyes, not missing the wink Merlin cast at Gwen, nor her resulting smile and blush.

"Shutting up, Sire." Merlin grinned and got to work. Arthur was heartily satisfied as, as he and Gwen turned the corner, there was an especially loud bang and a howl of pain.

"Do you think he's alright?" Gwen asked worriedly, twisting her head to look behind them.

"I hope so." Arthur said thoughtfully. "If he's lost a thumb he'll be even slower cleaning my chambers than usual." At Gwen's horrified look, he laughed. "I'm joking, Gwen. He's fine. If he'd smashed something, he'd be making more noise."

Gwen winced at the mental image and tried not to focus too much on how warm Arthur was. It was like sitting next to a fire, but softer and far more comforting. She was reluctant to pry herself from his side as they reached the royal seamstresses chambers, but had to make herself do so anyway.

With a charming smile, Arthur lifted her hand and kissed it with a bow. "My lady."

"Arthur." Gwen smiled back, unable to feel nervous. There was no room next to the squishy feelings overwhelming her.

He smiled one last time, then released her hand and left, disappearing round the corner. Gwen stared at the stone sorrowfully, starting as the seamstress banged her measuring stick on the doorframe. "Come on, Gwennie. I've only got a day to do this, so the sooner we start, the better."

"Of course, sorry." Gwen nodded and stepped inside. She had known Ellen Partridge since her childhood, and the older woman always called her by her pet name. If she was angry, it was Guinevere. Never had Ellen ever called her Gwen.

"No need to apologise." Ellen scolded her, nudging her up on the stool. "Arms out. Goodness, nearly gave me a heart attack this morning, watching the Prince catch you like that."

"It was far worse from my perspective." Gwen murmured.

"I can only imagine." Ellen clucked. "Down you hop. Of all the ways to send me into an early grave with stress, you had to pick today to get married. And me missing Lilly and all!" She huffed. Lilly was one of the seamstresses under her, and had recently contracted a coughing illness.

"I could help, if you like." Gwen offered. She was renowned for her speed and steady stitching throughout the servants quarters. But Ellen hesitated.

"I don't know," she worried, measuring around Gwen's head. "I mean, you're going to be a Princess or whatever…"

"Not until tonight." Gwen whispered, trying to push the terrifying thought from her mind. "And even a Princess should be able to sew. They do that, don't they?" She asked worriedly. "The noblewomen? Don't they embroider things to pass the time?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Ellen conceded. "All right then. I'll send Sarah to Jacob for the material. I've already got a pattern in mind." Her eyes gleamed with the fervour of a new project. "I'll make a bride of you yet."

The rest of the castle was in absolute uproar as the servants scurried to prepare for the wedding. Borne of the gallows it may be, but a royal wedding was a royal wedding, and nothing could change that. Not a single pair of hands or legs could be spared, and the stables and such outlying jobs were abandoned as the men and women there were roped into helping in the kitchens or decorating the halls.

Meanwhile, Uther brooded furiously in his chambers. None dared to disturb him for fear of a beating. The King was a force to be feared when he was angry. He glared out of the window at the servants, ant-like in their busyness. As he observed the courtyard from his window, he noted moodily how not one of them was walking – all were running. Hurrying to get everything ready for the wedding.

An invitation had been slipped under his door earlier and Uther turned his seething gaze upon it once more. It was a beautiful piece of work, the royal seal clear at the bottom. Evidently Arthur was taking charge, as Uther certainly hadn't issued permission for use of the seal. He ground his teeth and tossed the offending paper into the fire, watching in grim satisfaction as it burst into flame.

How he would like to do that to the thief, and that infuriating _Merlin_, for being able to use magic and live, and Morgana for leaving. And even Arthur, for daring to go against him so publicly.

Uther tried to calm himself with a tried and tested method – imagining how he would kill each of them, and in which order.

The thief first. She deserved to be hung – the most dishonourable death anyone could earn. Uther pictured the scene, smiling serenely. Arthur would be drugged into sleep, unable to interfere. Merlin and Morgana would be made to watch, of course. He wasn't sure which way he wanted the thief to die – being hung resulted in one of two ways of death. The first was quick and relatively painless – with the drop, the neck would snap, and that would be that. The second was the one that was slowest. The gallows jig, as the victim slowly strangled, turning blue and writhing and jerking like a fish on a line.

Uther nodded to himself – for touching his Igraine's jewels, the thief deserved to die slowly, and it would make the torture that more acute for the watching Merlin and Morgana.

He toyed over which of them to kill next. He hated Merlin more, so he should be made to watch, but he wanted to punish Morgana more, so perhaps she should be made to watch instead…

It was a slow decision, but Uther finally decided that Morgana would die first. Executed, for he still held a tiny well of compassion for her, the remnants of the days when she had been a daughter to him.

He scowled and smiled as he reached the end of his line of imaginary victims – the sorcerer, Merlin.

He had discovered the young man's magic by witnessing Merlin save Arthur's life. It was for that reason only that he had allowed Merlin to live. Had he had his way, the sorcerer would have been banished from the kingdom and forbidden ever to return, on pain of death, but after Arthur and the rat had had a long heart-to-heart without his knowledge, the warlock had bewitched his son into convincing Uther to let Merlin's magic remain a secret and allow him to remain Arthur's manservant.

It had taken a long time, and many heated arguments, but Uther had finally been convinced after Arthur threatened to leave with Merlin if he was banished. But even if Uther was beaten, it didn't mean he couldn't fantasise about the oh-so-beautiful death of said magician.

So, Merlin was last. Uther smiled. Having watched his two friends die, he would be in a state by then. For practising magic so close to the royal family, Merlin would not hang, or die by the sword or axe. No. He would suffer the most painful, excruciating death Uther could offer – burning. By dampening the wood first, Uther had found many years earlier, the process could be prolonged for hours. The victim would burn slowly. Very, very slowly.

Uther smiled and closed his eyes, calmed by thoughts of destroying his enemies.

* * *

**I love you all! Do you think Uther was a bit OTT with his mad ravings? -worried- Do tell me in a Christamassy review people! To anyone who's read this far, I love you!!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Whoa! Talk about a huge response! You guys are the cheese to my macaroni. Special love, thanks and lots and lots of ALE go to DementedViper, star-fire-dreamer, HopeCoppice, Yvy, BloodredCrimsonhands, Dragonrider2203, Hogaboom/Marmite (lol), Naomi (happy holidays to you too!) and purplewindow. Also to whoever added me to the Destiny Awaits C2.**

**For anyone who's wondering about the gallows law, it isn't a real law (to my knowledge), and I didn't make it up either - I pinched it from The Crystal Prison by Robin Jarvis. ^^'**

**DISCLAIMED**

* * *

Merlin grinned and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Okay sure, the door was a kind of mish-mash of various woods, and yeah, maybe it didn't quite hang straight but…well. At least it opened and closed, though Merlin had discovered that you had to grab the handle and kind of _yank_ upwards so that it didn't scrape loudly along the floor. And if you locked it, the top stuck in the doorframe and became quite difficult to get out…but imperfections gave a thing character. Arthur often said that about Merlin, after all.

So Merlin was (mostly) quite pleased with his complete and utter hash up of a perfectly simple job, and strolled off down the corridor, whistling merrily. He even attempted to spin the hammer in his hand in a fit of pique. It spun once, flew up with the momentum, and the handle hit Merlin squarely in the face before crashing into the floor very loudly.

Merlin staggered around, moaning and clutching his eye. He saw the hammer lying innocently in the middle of the corridor and glared at it balefully. "Take that!" He snapped through his hand, kicking it hard. It rebounded off the wall and slammed into his foot. Merlin yelled.

A passing servant heard the commotion and peeked around the corner of the corridor. Seeing a lanky, dark-haired boy hopping on one foot, clutching his face and yelling obscenities at a hammer on the floor, the servant promptly decided to take another route to the cleaning closet.

Presently, the throbbing in Merlin's foot and face receded slightly and he stood on both feet, glaring at the hammer. With a toss of his head, he growled under his breath and limped away, intent on finding Gwen and teasing her.

For once, luck was with him, and he found Gwen in the seamstress's chambers, sewing away. "How's it going?" He asked cheerfully. Gwen looked up and gasped.

"Oh my – Merlin! Your face!"

"Oh come on." Merlin huffed. "I'm not that bad looking."

"No, Merlin." Gwen laughed worriedly. "I mean…you've got a cut, and your eye is starting to swell up."

"Yes, I thought that might happen." He nodded knowledgably.

When it was clear no further elaboration was forthcoming, Gwen asked, "What happened?"

"Well, see," Merlin lowered his voice, "there was this hammer…"

Gwen raised her eyebrows and stifled a giggle. "You hit yourself in the face with a hammer?"

"No!" Merlin protested, slouching moodily against the doorframe and folding his arms. "It hit me in the face by itself."

"Oh, Merlin." Gwen shook her head, smiling. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Put the lad to work." Ellen snapped as she came in carrying a bundle of white. "I'm fair overrun here, and if he's fetching and carrying, I can do my stitching."

"Sure." Merlin shrugged. "Whatever I can do to help."

Ellen beamed. "Excellent. Come here and hold this…and this…and this…" She flitted about her mannequin, making Merlin hold several things at once as she snipped and cut and pinned white silk and net in the rough shape of a dress. "Wonderful." She declared, standing back. "Now then, what's your name, lad?"

"Merlin." Merlin replied, mystified at how this small woman could possibly make a dress out of the ruffles and lumps of white pinned to the model.

"Well then, Merlin, come here." Ellen moved around to the back of the mannequin and grabbed Merlin's hands, making them hold material together as she sliced down the back with her scissors, pulled a needle and reel of white thread from nowhere and began to sew.

Merlin's eyes widened. Never in his life had he ever seen someone sew so fast, not even Gwen. It was clear how Ellen had won her position of royal seamstress. The stitches were so small and perfect; they could have been done by mice.

Before long, Merlin grew uncomfortable in his position bending over Ellen to hold the material together and tried to shift slightly to ease his aching muscles. Quicker than lightning, Ellen's needle was at his throat and he froze.

"Move again," she hissed. "And I'll use you as a pincushion. Understood?"

Merlin nodded silently, trying not to impale himself on the needle (what would Ellen do if he got blood on the dress?). Ellen glared at him for a moment, then went back to stitching. Merlin swallowed and kept very still. The royal seamstress might have been a small creature who reminded him slightly of a mouse, but she was the scariest person Merlin had ever met.

He wondered what the result would be if Ellen and Nimueh were put in the same room and tried not to grin. The seamstress would put Nimueh in her place and probably put her to work as well!

Ellen, Gwen and another young woman with rosy cheeks and dimples called Orlaith worked non-stop through lunch, Merlin with them. Eventually, half way through the afternoon Merlin was dismissed, and he practically ran from the room, desperate for food.

He was collared in the corridor outside and was relocated (rather forcefully) to the great hall where he hung up white decorations with a dearth of other servants frantic to finish before the evening.

He was becoming rather desperate as the hours wore on and his stomach rumbled louder and louder. So when a lamp-lighter fell from one of the high ladders and broke his ankle, Merlin practically kidnapped him in his hurry to get to Gaius and _food_.

Gaius was not at all pleased to see him as Merlin kicked open the door, a pale-faced boy in his arms. "Merlin! And oh, not _another_ one!"

"Another?" Merlin queried, lying the boy down on the bench and sneaking over to the larder for some left over bread and apples.

"Everyone's in such a hurry to ready the castle for the wedding, they're not thinking safely." Gaius grumbled, waving a potion under the boy's nose to knock him out and snapping the bone in his ankle back into place quickly. As he looked up and saw Merlin shovelling bread into his mouth as fast as he could, his eyes widened in outrage. "Did you bring him here just to satisfy your stomach?"

Merlin shrugged unapologetically and carried on stuffing his face. Gaius rolled his eyes and went back to setting the bone.

xXx

Arthur, meanwhile, had finished being fitted for his clothes that evening and decided to return to his chambers to see if Merlin had fixed his door. As he rounded the corner and strode to his room, he stopped in his tracks in front of his door and gaped.

Was that shape even possible? Arthur blinked several times, squinted, even tilted his head first to one side, then to the other. Nope. That shape wasn't accepted by his brain, which felt like it was being wrapped around a pole as he stared at the mockery of a door.

_How_ had Merlin created this…this…monstrosity? Arthur stared at the shambles in horror, and shook his head to try and stop the feeling of slight nausea. He chanced another look, then groaned and looked away, practically running down the corridor. He had to find a carpenter to _fix_ that!

He found a carpenter and his apprentice in the courtyard, wheeling away the dismantled gallows and called for them to halt. The apprentice shook like a leaf in a wind as the Prince approached, and the carpenter himself wasn't much better.

"Please, Sire," he begged as Arthur came to stand in front of him. "We only built the gallows. It's our job, naught more. We were only following orders!"

"What?" Arthur stared at him in confusion, then rolled his eyes. "Oh, never mind that, I know it was your job. Look, I wrecked my door this morning and my manservant has completely botched the job of fixing it. Could you possibly –"

"Of course, my Lord!" The carpenter gasped with relief. "It'd be an honour, Sire, really. Garret," he turned to his apprentice, "wheel this back to the shop. I'll see to it immediately, Sire." He assured Arthur.

"Thank you." Arthur nodded. "Oh," he added as the carpenter made to leave. "Don't stare at it for too long. You might throw up."

The man looked alarmed, but nodded anyway. "Thank you, Sire." Arthur nodded, and the man scurried on his way. As he disappeared into the doorway, Arthur caught sight of a page with that distinct Arthur-hunting look he had learned long ago to recognise. Mercifully, he knew more of the palace hideaways and hidden places now than he had when he was an errant nine-year old running from his lessons.

He ducked into a doorway and slipped behind a pillar as the page turned his head in frustration, looking for the wayward Prince. When he looked in the other direction, Arthur made a break for the servant's stairs and dashed inside.

Luck was with him, and the page went on his way, asking passers-by if they had seen the Prince. Arthur grinned and disappeared up the stairwell, shrinking into an alcove as a servant girl scurried past him. As he was wearing nothing fancier than a red shirt and breeches, she paid him no mind and went on her way.

Arthur decided that he wasn't really needed for anything, and headed through the secret passages used by the servants to the small, unused room near the top of the north wing. The north wing was rarely used for anything, but Arthur had discovered as a child the tiny room on the north wall with the door-sized window that led out onto a secret battlement walk. No one else seemed to know it existed, and it provided a view out onto the forests instead of into Camelot where he would be seen.

He sneaked into the room and opened the positively filthy window to the battlements. He would have demanded it be cleaned and properly looked after, but that would draw attention to it, and he didn't want to lose one of the only safe refuges he had in the castle.

The wind was harsh on the north side, but Arthur ignored it, shutting the window behind him and sitting down against the wall. The walkway was less than a metre wide, and the wall didn't even come up to his knees. It was for show, rather than for use. With the buffeting wind and slippery flagstones and tiny wall, the battlement was a death-trap.

But for Arthur, that was part of the appeal.

He had been up there for around half an hour, his face numbed by the wind, when the window opened and another figure stepped uncertainly out onto the battlement. "Arthur?"

"Merlin?" Arthur gaped as his ungainly manservant peered around to spot him, his hair blown flat against his head, his eye decorated with a rather splendid cut and black bruising. "How did you find me?"

"I'm your manservant." Merlin shrugged, shutting the window and eyeing the distance between them and the low wall nervously. "I always know where you go when you want to be alone."

"Hm." Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You know there's a word in that sentence you should pay attention to, Merlin. Do you know what it is? No? It's 'alone'." He glared, hoping the idiot would take the hint.

He didn't.

Arthur sighed in exasperation as Merlin stumbled out onto the walkway and clung to the wall like a limpet, shuffling over to him slowly. "Come here." He rolled his eyes and grabbed Merlin's jacket, yanking him down next to him. "What on earth did you do to yourself?" He asked, nodding at Merlin's black eye.

"What, this?" Merlin gingerly touched the cut under his eye and grimaced. "I got in an argument with the hammer."

"Before or after you created a door that actually hurts to look at?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, Merlin, shapes like that shouldn't be logically possible."

"Well I do defy logic." Merlin grinned.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me."

There was a silence as Merlin silently marvelled at the view of the wild forests rising in front of them before he turned to his master. "So why are you up here avoiding everyone and sending that page into an early grave?"

"He can't be that bad." Arthur grumbled.

"He fainted." Merlin told him confidentially. "Gaius had to give him a tonic and I promised him I'd find you. You really know how to make servants' lives misery."

"Does that include you?" Arthur asked curiously.

"No, I'm okay with you." Merlin shrugged.

"Damn." Arthur shrugged and turned back to the view. "I was thinking that I was finally doing something right with you."

"Ha ha, very funny." Merlin rolled his eyes, not amused. "Seriously though, why are you up here? It's not exactly the most comfortable place in Camelot." He shifted and grimaced as if to prove his point.

"That's the whole idea." Arthur told him wearily. "If everyone came up here, it wouldn't be a secret anymore."

Merlin laughed. "I never took you for the secrets type."

"I never thought you were either." Arthur remarked dryly. "And look how wrong I was."

"Well magic was a pretty important secret to keep." Merlin said, offended. "Y'know, what with the whole death penalty and all."

"Yeah, yeah." Arthur nudged his shoulder. "Don't pull that with me. For your information, I came up here to escape annoying busybodies like you who seem to insist upon badgering me with their inane questions and unsure congratulations."

"Well I don't fit that bill at all!" Merlin cried indignantly. "For your information, I've no intention of dragging you down –"

"Not that you could, you weakling."

"– before you're ready," Merlin glared. "And my congratulations are completely sincere. I love weddings!"

"So you've said." Arthur rested his arm on his knee and stared out to the forests. "But Merlin, what sort of wedding is this? I didn't exactly propose to her romantically, and I can't expect her to…you know…do a real wife's duties." He ducked his head embarrassedly.

Merlin looked confused. "A wife's duties?"

"Producing an heir, you idiot." Arthur snapped at his knees.

"Oh." Merlin blinked, then looked at him. "Well why not? I mean, you love her, don't you?"

"What sort of question is that?" Arthur spluttered, looking up indignantly.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Uh…the obvious one? Arthur, come on. Do you love her or not?"

"I…" Arthur stared at his knees again. "No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know!" He yelled finally, turning to Merlin with a kind of desperate look in his eyes. "I didn't exactly plan this, you know."

"Yes you did." Merlin said mildly, examining his nails. "You told me of the gallows law last night. You had the whole night to think on it. Surely you thought ahead?" He laughed, looking at Arthur. The Prince flushed and dropped his gaze. Merlin gaped. "You didn't think further than rescuing her?"

"Not exactly." Arthur mumbled.

Merlin huffed, scandalised and leaned his head back against the wall. "And you call me an idiot. Look, Gwen loves you, you know."

"She's a fool."

"Look who's talking." Merlin shot back. "Gwen's loved you for a while now – it doesn't take a genius to see it."

"Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't have worked it out."

Merlin narrowed his eyes at him. "Nice. Look, if she can admit her feelings, so can you. Do you love her or not?"

"…"

"Arthur…"

"Fine! Yes." Arthur frowned at the forests, seeming a little surprised by his own words. "Yes. I do."

Merlin restrained the urge to do a happy dance – on this ridiculously thin battlement, he'd be dead before you could say "Merlin you bumbling buffoon." As it was, he grinned wide enough to split his face in two. "I knew it!" His eyes danced and Arthur blushed and looked away.

"Shut up, Merlin."

"Yes, Sire." Merlin nodded, but kept up his silly grin.

Arthur sighed and stood up. "Come on. It's getting close to sunset – wedding time."

Merlin barely managed not to giggle as he followed Arthur, edging along the walkway and hugging the wall. "I love weddings!" He squeaked.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur jumped gracefully through the window, turning just in time to see Merlin's toe catch on the edge and send him sprawling ungainly across the dusty floor. "Well done."

"Ow." Merlin got up, wincing painfully.

Arthur smirked and clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulders. "Come on. Let's get dressed up."

xXx

Gwen was more nervous than she had ever been in her entire life. She waited as Ellen and Orlaith finished fixing up the dress on the mannequin in the other room – she had been banished in the traditional way of not allowing the bride to see her dress before it was on her.

There was this other tradition; she frowned as she recognised the footsteps coming down the corridor, which said that a groom shouldn't see a bride before the wedding.

That didn't seem to be stopping Arthur; she smiled as his familiar face peeked around the corner, saw her and smiled. "Just came to wish you good luck."

"I'll need it." She gasped. "I'm so nervous."

Arthur stepped into the room and stood in front of her, head bowed. "Me too," he admitted. "It's not like either of us has done this before. But don't worry about it." He added, smiling. "We'll be fine. They won't hate you. At least not until the wine runs out." He quipped, and Gwen laughed.

"You father has to perform the ceremony doesn't he?" She asked worriedly after a moment. "What if something goes wrong? What if –"

"Guinevere, Guinevere," Arthur took her hands in his comfortingly and Gwen's breath hitched. "Stop worrying." She peeked up into his eyes, bluer than cornflowers, and felt herself relax. She felt safer around Arthur than any other. "You'll be fine." He smiled. "We both will."

"I know." She nodded, taking a deep breath and smiling at him. "I still can't believe you'd do this for me."

"I'd do more still." Arthur said without thinking. As Gwen's eyes widened, he flushed and dropped his gaze, and her hands. "I have to go. Besides," he jerked his head at the door to the other room. "Ellen will probably kill me if she finds me."

"Probably." Gwen nodded. "Thank you." She added earnestly as he turned to leave.

"What for?" He grinned, his golden hair flaring like a halo around his head.

"Caring." She said simply. Arthur's eyes softened and he nodded gently, then left. Gwen took a deep breath and twisted her fingers together anxiously. She was not nauseous as she had been before though – now the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering madly and something inside her glowed with excitement.

Interruption came in the form of the door opening and Orlaith giggling and pulling her inside. "Come on!"

"It's ready?" Gwen breathed, hardly able to speak.

"Just." Ellen sighed. "My sweat and blood in this dress, Gwennie, and you're going to look simply wonderful after a bath. Come here."

Gwen gasped as the two women pulled her clothes off and dumped her unceremoniously into a tub of cold water. "It's freezing!"

"You think we can haul kettles of hot water up here for you, girl?" Ellen snapped, yanking the pins from Gwen's hair and lathering it in soap. "You're not Princess yet."

"You will be soon though." Orlaith sighed dreamily. "I wonder what it'll be like for you?"

"Boring." Gwen said, surprised at her own revelation. "Morgana was always at a loss for things to do to occupy herself. And I won't be allowed to clean to pass the time any more I don't suppose."

"Y'know," Ellen said dryly. "Most would count that as a blessing. Tip your head back."

"I prefer…" Gwen obeyed. "To be doing things, not sitting around looking pretty. Not that I'll be much good at that."

"Rubbish." Ellen rinsed the soap from her hair. "Prettiest little maid the castle's ever seen you are. Oh, I wish your father were here to see this. He'd fair burst with pride."

"He'll be watching from heaven." Orlaith nodded assuredly. "Grinning ear-to-ear."

Gwen pretended to herself that the tears streaming down her face came from the soap stinging her eyes.

A few minutes later, Ellen was satisfied that Gwen was clean enough to be a Princess. Gwen felt like her skin had been scrubbed clean off. She was bundled out of the bathtub and towelled dry by Orlaith as Ellen ran to fetch a maid to do Gwen's hair.

She returned with Alice, who sobbed and hugged Gwen before getting to work brushing and combing and twisting and plaiting. She had to work around Ellen and Orlaith, who concentrated on slipping Gwen into her wedding dress. Gwen felt like a doll between three young children playing dress-up.

She was not allowed to see herself in the mirror when they were done – the sun was near to setting, and they had to be on their way. Gwen found herself being hurried along the corridors to one of the back-rooms to the great hall, where the wedding would take place.

Merlin was hurrying too – he had not helped Arthur with his clothes after all, but had been ordered to go to Uther's chambers to check that the King was actually going to attend.

A bruise on his shoulder and a stain spreading across his shirt attested to the fact that yes, the King was coming but no he definitely didn't feel happy about it. Merlin rolled his eyes and nipped to his room to change and pilfer Gaius' ointment for his face and shoulder.

When he went to Arthur's chambers, he found that the Prince had already departed. A look out the window told him that the hour was later than he had believed, and Merlin ran from the room quickly.

There were two side rooms to the great hall – Arthur would come from one, Gwen from the other, and they would meet in the middle. Merlin remembered which was which – left for women, right for men – and grinned as he stepped in to see how Arthur was holding up.

* * *

**Ale for reviewers! Also for anyone who can't make up dresses in their minds (I can't), I based Gwen's dress on this - http : / / www . lindsayfleming . com / orlaith / orlaith . html without the spaces. obviously. ^^ It also happens to be where I got the name Orlaith.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh man, it's the last chapter, and this has been by far the most wonderful fic to write ever simply because of the fantastic response! I swear, if every fic got this kind of lavish love, there would be no discontinued fics. At all. O_O**

**Anyway, for the last time ever -sniff- I will give barrels of lovely, lovely ale to my most wonderful reviewers who are so good to me it's like a dream! -sob- Love and thanks to DementedViper, Hogaboom, purplewindow, HopeCoppice, dimple-lala, star-fire-dreamer, prettylittlepickle and Naomi. I thank you from the bottom of my greasy black heart. -sniff-**

**DISCLAIMED**

* * *

Gwen was alone for the time being – it being tradition that the bride should look upon her reflection in a looking glass or at least a pool of water, Ellen and Orlaith had gone to fetch one, leaving her on her own.

She twined her fingers in front of her nervously, wishing she could sit down. Ellen had forbidden it of course, in case it rumpled or creased the silk. She looked up as the door opened, expecting to see Orlaith and Ellen bringing a mirror.

Instead, she gasped as the one person she would never have expected to see back in Camelot, least of all to see _her_ walked into the room, her smile radiant.

Gwen gasped. "Morgana!"

Her Lady's smile widened and she stepped forward to embrace her old maid, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand. "Gwen. You look well."

"What are you doing here?" Gwen gaped, a happy smile lighting up her eyes.

"Seeing you of course, silly." Morgana smiled. "I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world."

Gwen smiled tearfully. "I'm so glad you came!" She cried. "You don't…mind, do you?" She added worriedly.

"Mind?" Morgana laughed and looked at her strangely. "Why would I mind?"

"Well," Gwen ducked her head. "You and Arthur were always meant to be King and Queen one day…"

"No." Morgana shook her head kindly. "Arthur will be King, true enough, but I will never be his Queen." Her eyes darkened. "I have far more important work to do." Her eyes lightened again as she gazed at Gwen. "Though I can spare an hour or two for this. You look beautiful, Guinevere."

Gwen blushed and ducked her head again. "It's nothing." She mumbled. "I mean…"

"Rubbish." Morgana laughed. "I've never seen such a beautiful bride." And indeed such a beautiful dress, she added mentally. The seamstress had truly outdone herself with the wedding garment.

The bodice was white with patterns of Celtic spirals and curves embroidered in delicate pale gold. The sleeves were of soft silk, joined at the shoulder with gold ribbon and falling in a cascade of white almost to the floor, leaving Gwen's arms from the elbows-down bare. The skirt shone like the moon, flaring out from her slim waist and the 'v' of the bodice and brushing the floor gently.

Someone had done something magnificent with Gwen's hair – instead of the tightly-twisted curls she usually wore pinned up out of her face, the dark brown locks had been teased into softness, half plaited and pinned in an elaborate style, the other half falling to her shoulders in soft curls.

"You really think so?" She asked shyly.

Morgana laughed and put a hand on her heart. "As the Gods are my witness," she grinned. "But," she added teasingly, "there's just one thing missing."

Gwen frowned slightly, keeping her smile. "What?"

"Headgear." Morgana narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Gwen's hair. "You need a circlet."

"Morgana, there's no time." Gwen laughed.

"There's time enough for me." She whispered, bringing her hands together over Gwen's head. "_Ałetђra moѓr atёer_."

Gwen felt something settle in her hair and gasped, bringing her hands up to touch the cold silver that had appeared from nowhere. Morgana's eyes danced as she stepped back.

"There. That can be your wedding present." **A/N - If you want to see the beautiful circlet I based this on, the link is at the bottom of the page.**

"What is it made of?" Gwen breathed.

"Star rays and moonbeams." Morgana smiled, pleased with her handiwork. "Now I have to go – you might see me in the crowd if you look hard enough."

"Do you really think Arthur wants to go through with this?" Gwen asked her anxiously. "He shouldn't have to, really. I mean, I'm just a servant and he's a _Prince_, and –"

"Gwen!" Morgana laughed. "Relax. Of course he wants this. He loves you."

"How do you know?" Gwen asked, biting her lip.

"Because I can see into his heart." Morgana smiled smugly. "You keep that in mind. Now I've _really_ got to go – good luck." She couldn't wipe the huge grin from her face as she closed the door behind him and sighed dreamily. "I _love_ weddings!"

No sooner had she turned the corner did Ellen and Orlaith come around it, bearing a large mirror between them. Morgana quickly cloaked herself in the glamour of a noblewoman and passed them unnoticed. She wouldn't ruin Gwen's wedding by appearing as herself and having Uther set the guard on her.

Gwen looked up as the door opened and Orlaith dashed inside, stepping behind her and covering her eyes with her hands. "No peeking!" She grinned. "Just wait a moment."

Ellen huffed as she laid the looking glass against the wall and stood back, smiling and nodding to Orlaith, who whipped her hands away.

Gwen opened here eyes and gasped. Surely that woman in the glass couldn't be her? Gwen was a small servant girl with hands callused from hard work and hair pinned up out of her face. Gwen bathed once a week in water from the pump in the lower town and wore dresses made more out of repairing stitches than original material.

The woman staring back at her from the mirror with wide eyes looked like a Princess. She was clothed in a dress of purest white, a circlet of star rays and moonbeams twined in her soft brown hair, a moonstone drooping to the centre of her forehead. She looked like a fairy queen.

Ellen sniffed and wiped away a tear. "Your father would be so proud, Gwennie," she whispered, her voice rough with tears. "I know I am. Never seen a lady so beautiful in all my life, and that's saying something."

Orlaith simply burst into tears and buried her face in a handkerchief.

Gwen just nodded dazedly, half in a trance. Suddenly horns blared from the other side of the door and Ellen bustled forward. "Come on, Gwennie. That's your cue." She kissed the girl on the cheek and ushered her forward.

xXx

Arthur was looking very handsome in red and black, his crown nestling in his golden hair. It was clear he was uncomfortable – he preferred leather breeches and cotton shirts to silk and useless embroidery. Merlin grinned when he saw him, earning himself a scowl.

"Where have you been?"

Merlin shrugged. "Busy."

Arthur breathed dangerously and raised a finger to scold his servant when the horns in the hall trumpeted loudly. Merlin grinned – saved by the horn! – and gave Arthur a small push in the right direction. "On you go, my Lord."

Arthur swallowed and stepped out through the doorway, transforming at some point in between into the Crown Prince, groom-to-be of Guinevere of Camelot.

Merlin took the moment of solitude to do a quick happy dance, then slipped out after his master and merging into the crowd to watch.

Harps and violins played a soft, gentle melody as the bride and groom stepped into view. Merlin felt his heart melt into a puddle of goo as Guinevere stepped forward and every lady in the room _gasped_. A more beautiful bride had never taken the steps towards her groom.

Only Uther managed to look angry as the two approached each other and him, standing in the middle. It seemed an age before the couple finally met, and Merlin heard quite a few ladies sigh as Arthur took both Guinevere's hands in his own and smiled.

Uther managed (just) not to growl and held his hand over theirs, palm facing the crowd. "As King of Camelot, Lord of these lands and of all the loyal subjects here today, I gather you witnesses here at this place, at this time, to unite forever these two, Prince Arthur, and Guinevere of Camelot, in matrimony."

Merlin felt something tingle on the edges of his senses and turned his head with a frown, searching for the source. As his eyes scanned the room, he caught sight of a glimmer of magic. His jaw dropped as he saw Morgana, covered in a veil of magic to hide her true face, wipe away a tear and smile at the stage with every other lady of the court.

Merlin frowned anxiously, then shook his head, turning his attention back to the ceremony. Morgana didn't look like she was out to destroy Gwen and Arthur's happiness – rather, just to attend the wedding of a dear friend.

Uther continued. "Do you, Arthur Pendragon, take this woman to be your wife on this day to cherish, hold and love forever until you both lie in the earth's embrace?"

Arthur swallowed. He had never felt so nervous in his entire life. Gwen squeezed his hands and he smiled at her. "I do."

Uther's eyes darkened and he glared down at Gwen. "Do you, Guinevere of Camelot, take this man on this day to cherish, hold and love forever until you both lie in the earth's embrace?"

Gwen took a deep breath and gazed into Arthur's eyes. They were soft and reassuring. With a smile she whispered, "I do."

Uther closed his eyes briefly to stop himself from going berserk. "Who blesses the husband?" He felt a brief flash of hope – the blessings of bride and groom could not be given by the family or any who had helped directly in the preparations. Usually they were given by friends, but who would be so foolish –

"I do." Merlin stepped forward and grinned. "I'll bless Arthur – I mean, the husband."

Uther hissed through his teeth as Merlin stepped up on the stage to stand behind Arthur, a grin on his face. "Who blesses the wife?" He ground out.

There was a tension-filled silence, and Arthur gripped Gwen's hands tight. Then, "I do."

Heads turned to see Morgana shed her glamour and step forward proudly. "I bless the wife." Uther's face reddened with fury as his former ward stepped gracefully onto the stage.

"You dare?"

"Would you break the truce of matrimony?" Morgana smirked. "I bless the bride. Do go on, my Lord." Her voice was the very embodiment of insolence.

Uther seethed, but continued. "Very well. I conclude this ceremony in the name of God. May He join you both together through summer and winter, youth and age, and may your love be eternal." He lowered his hand and stepped back to growl, "You may now kiss your bride."

Arthur's heart was beating so loudly he was certain everyone in the hall could hear it. Gwen's hands were trembling in his own as he swallowed and bent down as she stretched up. Their lips met gently, hesitantly, hardly daring to believe they had any right at all. Gwen had never believed that the sharp-tongued Prince could have such soft lips, and both pairs of eyes closed tentatively.

Merlin and Morgana's gazes met over the heads of their friends, and each mage nodded to the other seriously. Then smiles broke over both their faces, and they began to clap. The court joined in, most of the women giving in to their tears and sobbing hysterically. Morgana was sure she saw a few of the men dab surreptitiously at their eyes as well, and she laughed brightly.

The newly wed couple drew back, their cheeks flushed, and smiled shyly at each other. Uther growled through the cheer. "I now declare the celebrations to begin." He snapped, and his cloak swirled as he swept from the stage.

The band started a slow dance tune, and Arthur slipped into his role as Prince with relief, bowing to his new wife, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Guinevere."

Gwen smiled back with delight and curtseyed. "Arthur."

He kissed her hand and rose, a charming smile on the lips she had just kissed. "Dance with me?"

"I don't know how." She realized suddenly.

"I'll show you." He smiled. "It's not that hard to pick up."

"If you say so." She laughed nervously.

"I do." He smirked and his hand tightened around hers, leading her from the stage to the dance floor. "It's easy." He whispered in her ear. "Just move in a triangle, and when people join in you can copy them."

"Okay." Gwen whispered back. Her father had waltzed with her as a child in play, and her feet remembered the steps easily.

Merlin grinned from the sidelines and then sidled across the back of the floor to Morgana's side. "Dangerous of you to come." He remarked, his eyes on the newlyweds.

"Yes." She agreed. "I'll be going in just a minute – before Uther sends his knights after me." She laughed patronisingly and Merlin turned to stare at her.

"You've changed a lot. You couldn't do a glamour or anything like that before."

"No." Morgana kept her eyes on the floor. "I've learned a lot. You haven't changed a bit." She added thoughtfully. "Or learned much."

"Oh I don't know." Merlin shrugged as though they were talking about the weather. "I could probably banish you from the court."

"Perhaps." Morgana allowed. "But you could do far more than that, Merlin, and you know it." She turned to him at last, her glass-clear eyes cunning and full of new wisdom. "Come with me, Merlin. There is so much you could learn. So much you could do. The people of Camelot, of Albion and the lands beyond our borders suffer terribly." Her voice rang with passion, and she fought to keep her voice down as other couples began to join those on the dance floor.

"The spreading of Christianity means that the people are turning on each other." Morgana went on in hushed tones. "Anyone with a grudge can point the finger and cry 'magic', and before you know it there's a lynching. Merlin," she whispered earnestly. "You could help me stop this."

Merlin shook his head slowly and stepped back from her. "I'm sorry, Morgana. My place is here, at Arthur's side."

Morgana sighed with narrowed eyes and turned her gaze to said Prince, smiling and laughing with his wife on the dance floor. "Of course." She said bitterly. "At Arthur's side."

"When he is King, things will be different." Merlin smiled hopefully at her. "I know it."

"Arthur is Christian." Morgana said in a hard voice. "Nothing will change for my people. It never does." Her words were sad and cold, and as Merlin stepped forward, she stepped back, literally melting into the crowd. Into air.

Arthur and Gwen saw nothing of Morgana's departure. They were wrapped in their own world. Arthur was teaching Gwen the steps of a dance she had always longed to try, but had never been able to. She was a quick learner, and was soon laughing with exhilaration as she spun and clapped with the other nobles of the court.

The floor split as the men went to one side, the women another. Gwen felt a moment of fear as she was separated from Arthur, but she soon picked up the rhythm of the dance again, and laughed as she minced with the other ladies to the men. Her hand was taken by another noble, a dark-haired young man with kind eyes.

He bowed and she curtseyed, and they danced. A spin, and she was with another man, auburn-haired this time, wearing all red. Another spin and she was finally with Arthur, who smiled and bent his head to whisper, "Do you want to leap out a window yet?"

She laughed. "You were right!" She cried back. "It is easy!"

He laughed back and they danced merrily till Gwen thought her feet would drop off. She caught Merlin's eye from the sidelines – he winked cheekily and grinned wide. "Where's Morgana?" She mouthed as she was gripped around the waist by Arthur and lifted into the air.

As she landed with a delighted squeak, Merlin shrugged and waved a hand – gone, obviously. Gwen pulled a rueful face: she had wanted to speak to her again. Arthur smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat. "Tired?"

"Yes." She sighed with a smile. "I've never danced so much in my life."

"Come on," he whispered into her ear, taking her hand and leading her gently from the dance floor. "Let me show you something."

Gwen looked around curiously as Arthur led her down a low-ceilinged corridor lined with tapestries. "Where are we going?"

"Have you ever been up the towers, Guinevere?" He asked in reply, smiling.

Gwen pursed her lips. "No, I can't say I have."

"Excellent." Arthur grinned at her. "Then this will be a more…novel experience for you."

"Novel?" Gwen laughed as Arthur spun her inside a stairwell and began to climb. "Goodness," she gasped after a moment. "How many stairs are there?"

"Lots." Arthur replied wryly. "But it's well worth it – trust me."

"I do trust you." She murmured softly.

Arthur felt his heart leap into his throat and tightened his grip around her hand slightly. He never wanted to let her go, he realised. They soon came to the top of the staircase and Arthur spun in place, blocking the doorway with a mischievous smile. "You can't see yet. Come here." He pulled her gently to his side and stepped behind her, simultaneously covering her eyes with his hands. "Alright – step up here. Very good. Just trust me."

"I do." She whispered, stretching her hands out blindly.

Arthur smiled and put his mouth next to her ear. "Now turn here." He removed his hands and Gwen rolled her eyes as she faced yet more stairs. "Don't worry." He laughed. "Not many more."

"Good," she breathed. "Because I'm running out of breath."

"It'll be worth it." Arthur promised. "Keep going."

"To the top of the world." Gwen murmured.

"So it would seem." Arthur grinned, slipping his hands over her eyes again as they reached the top. "Don't worry – just step upwards, and again, last time. There. Now…move forwards…"

Gwen obeyed blindly, hot excitement curling in her stomach as she felt cool wind on her face and bare arms. "Where are we?"

"At the top of the world." Arthur breathed into her ear before taking his hands away and resting them on her shoulders.

Gwen gasped, falling back into Arthur's body. She was glad he had his hands on her shoulders, or she might have floated away.

Arthur really had taken her to the top of the world, she thought giddily. They were at the top of the tallest of Camelot's towers, and she could see the world spread before her like a map. It was breathtaking. Words could not come close to describing it, she decided, even if she was a poet gifted with words from God Himself.

Camelot lay below her like a child's toy, the lights of the town winking like fireflies, its inhabitants smaller than ants. The sound of music and laughing and merriment floated up to them on the wind, borne from the great hall and town square alike. Everyone was celebrating the wedding, it seemed.

Beyond Camelot's walls the road wound like a river, the real river a ribbon of shimmering midnight-blue, reflecting the stars and the full moon in its enchanted waters. The forest hemmed the road in from all directions with its wilderness, untamable and magnificent. Beyond the forest lay mountains tipped with snow that shone in the moonlight.

"It's the most…beautiful thing I've ever seen." She gasped breathlessly, her hands flying up to grip Arthur's on her shoulders. "I never knew the world was so big."

"It is big." Arthur's breath was warm on her neck, and Gwen sighed dreamily. "But it is worth fighting for. Which bit do you like best?" He added with a smile.

Gwen shook her head slowly. "It's all so lovely…I couldn't choose if I had a lifetime to view it."

"But you do have a lifetime." Arthur chuckled. "You can come up here whenever you wish to admire this view and choose slowly which bit you like best."

"I think that…whenever I view it by night…" Gwen mused thoughtfully. "I will love most…the moon and the stars."

"They shine for you." Arthur whispered huskily, and Gwen shivered. "Are you cold?"

"Not with you here." She sighed, leaning back into him, forgetting to stammer and backtrack. "You're the most amazing person I've ever known, Arthur. You saved my life." She smiled slightly. "You're my hero."

"And you are my heroine." Arthur smiled in return, spinning Gwen slowly in the circle of his arms until she was facing him. Somehow his other hand had managed to slip to her waist and hers was brushing his chest lightly, making his heart beat like a bird's wings.

"Arthur…" Gwen's eyes reflected the moon, Arthur noticed dimly.

"Guinevere." He murmured.

Their lips met with all the gentleness of the first time, though the hesitance was less. They fit together perfectly, effortlessly, and both their minds went blank as they closed their eyes and drew each other closer in the moonlight, hidden at the top of the world in a universe all of their own.

The stars blazed brighter than fire and the world spun as Gwen's mind formed a dizzy thought in the midst of her bliss – _this is how all endings should be. Happy._

* * *

**Link for circlet - http : // www . medievalbridalfashions . com / catalog / index . php ? main_page = product_info & cPath = 1&products_id = 32 without spaces.**

**I am almost crying, it is so sad that this is over. I love every single one of you who read this, even the lurkers who don't review. ^^ Long live the King and Queen of Camelot! And Merlin! And more ale!**

**Footnote - I am going on holiday for a week from tomorrow. A holiday for which I have to get up sinfully early (honestly, 4:30 AM is just _not right_), and for the duration of which I will probably be deprived from any form of computer, internet connection or not. So I will reply to lovely reviews on the Sunday I get back. Happy New Year! ^^**


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